Ouran as told by Arianna Carson
by OochialiRagazza
Summary: After an incident at Dale Harris Academy, Arianna Carson is forced to start the year in a new high school. Her family expects her to be the good student she has always been; however, new interactions and friends might lead her to change more than just her reputation. How much can you change when your classmates arrive to school in limousines? At Ouran, appearances matter.
1. Chapter 1 Fight or flight

_It was during a chilling October morning when I saw him walking out from the classroom and into the Dale Harris school grounds. His gray eyes gleamed with a fear I have never seen before. In a quick instant,what started like a quick conversation turned into a promise. _

_"Please, don't tell anyone." He said, and I guess I took his plea to heart because today I ended up here. I ended up in the airport._

* * *

**Chapter one: Fight or Flight**

I found myself alone, holding a cup of cold "hot chocolate." As I stare at the bitter, brown liquid, the world around me doesn't seem to stop and in fact it moves faster than what I once imagined— people walk down the hallways so desperately, talking fast words in the phone, unaware of their surroundings. A man wearing what looked to be an expensive black jacket almost runs into me even though I had been sitting in the same place for almost fifteen minutes. Immediately, he looked down at me, his cell phone hanging from his right hand, and walked away adjusting his watch. He didn't even care to apologize. Oh, but what can I expect? That's the reason why I decided to use the last of my spare change to buy this so-called hot chocolate. When I walked into the coffee stand, the cashier, a woman with straight long hair combed in a low ponytail, squinted and raised her eyebrows as soon as I placed my order. She then took a black marker and wrote my name (wrongly) in the cup. I might not know much of body language, but I couldn't help feeling she was judging me. Like, who orders a hot beverage in a beautiful March morning? Granted, there is a fresh breeze walking swiftly from the open window, but still, it is not that cold. All I wanted to say to her was that yes, I am aware that hot chocolate is not a spring-like type of beverage, the kind you order when the sun shines high above your head, but instead I just grabbed my order and walked back to the terminal. I bet she doesn't know that whenever I feel anxious, the only thing that calms my nerves is a hot beverage. I am terrified with the prospect of a new life, but who wouldn't be nervous to start over in a place that you have only seen in TV shows? Obviously, I am not the one beating the odds.

I grab my suitcase from its handle, turning my hand as red as its color, as I finally gain the courage to throw my cold beverage and move on—slowly—towards the exit door, where the air of an urbanized Japan was waiting for me. Here, as I walk through the Kansai International Airport, I began to comprehend the impact of the decision I had made during that Christmas Eve. This year will be anything but easy.

"…Your uncle is a very respectable man." Mom assured me after our annual family Christmas party at my grandma's house. I remember it was a tranquil night because all I could hear was the sound of the faucet's water overshadowing the loud snores of my grandpa, who slept profoundly in the living room without worrying about anything else. I bet it must be very nice to sleep that way.

"Yeah, right! Sure he is." My dad interrupted as a faint smile appeared across his face. He walked towards the table and poured himself a second serving of my mom's legendary eggnog. I limited myself to stare at them, never complaining or refusing the possibility of going to live with my uncle, who I have not seen since I was six years old. My decision didn't come because I have this enormous sense of adventure and exploration; on the contrary, I like when things are constant and smooth like water in a morning pool; however, I felt like I didn't have the right to argue, so I just went with it. I only asked for his name because I had forgotten that I had an uncle from my mom's side of the family, but instead of getting a straightforward answer, all I got was an ambiguous sentence that went almost like a riddle.

"Well," my mom began to say as she paused from her cleaning, her green eyes fixed on me. "He hates his real name, so he might tell you his name is Bob or maybe not. Last time I spoke to him, he claimed that was his name, but he is as unpredictable as the weather, so he might change and tell you his name is Hugo…who knows! At the end, you just can call him Uncle."

It was with this memory running through my head that I heard a familiar ringtone coming from my handbag. I moved my camera and took out my cell phone. There, in its tiny, bluish screen, a digital envelope was waiting for my response. I unlocked my phone and touched the screen, right in the middle of that image unaware that I had just released the Kraken.

"Riana, this is your Uncle Bill. :D Welcome to Japan!

See, I know I promised that I would pick you up,

but I am working in something very important right now…

So, do you think you could meet me at the following address? ;)

Thank you and see you soon. :)"

And right after the last smiley face, he added a quick and weird address in addition of two more happy faces. Ok, what's up with all these smiley faces? I honestly don't find this situation funny. Come on! I can't feel happy when I am left alone in a country I have never been before! Plus, he got my name wrong. What a joy! Wait, Breathe, take a deep breath. Calm down, I need to calm down. Ok, all I need to do is remember the reasons why I am here, ready to take the consequences of my sacrifice. I have to remember my mom's words before I left home.

"Oh, sweetie," she said between sobs as we hugged before I boarded the plane that took me here. "If you improve your grades and become the amazing student you used to be; then, you can finish your studies here, near home."

This came as a surprise; however, I have to stick to that promise because if I do not, I will lose faith and faith is all I have left. I do not want to stay here, in the airport all day, so, in an abrupt take of bravery, I decided to venture myself in this quest. I walked out the terminal and began to revaluate my next step.

"Ok, my mom is always saying that the bus is the best way of transportation, but which one should I take?" I whispered to myself as I spotted to a map nearby, the kind college campuses have all around in case new students get lost in their way to class. I narrowed my eyes and tried to read the tiny English subtitles under the Japanese kanji, but after realizing this was useless (because I didn't have the slightest idea of where the street or even a bathroom was located), I decided to step away. That's when, out of the blue, I saw a tall young man. He stood silently right in front of a limousine that he parked near the airport's main exit door. Now, I do not intend to label anyone or anything, but his bright blond hair and big, green eyes made me assumed that he was (perhaps) a foreigner just like me, so what do I have to lose? He might be the safest person to approach. Nervously, I began to give small steps towards the limousine, moving my entire luggage along, making sure to avoid any obstacle that came my way. No, what am I thinking? I can't just approach a stranger…what if he doesn't want to help me? Or what if asking makes me appear rude? On the other hand, what if I misjudged him and he only speaks Japanese? The way I pronounce things makes it hard to communicate sometimes…This is a new country, so I don't know nothing about their social code…well, maybe I do know a little, but still…what am I doing? I decided to turn around and just look back at the map when the young man's attention was soon diverted towards me. Suddenly, his eyes were meeting mine. It's too late now; he knows I intended to talk to him.

"Uh, hi… Uh, I am new here, so I was just wondering if you know what bus should I take to arrive here?" I asked shyly, handing him my cell phone, right on the message my Uncle had sent me. Duh! I am such a dummy. I should've asked first if he spoke English.

Dummy. Dummy. DUUUUUUMYYYY!  
The man's stern expression change and in its place, a smile took reign of his entire face. He nodded while giving me back my phone.

"Oh, I sure know where this is. Look, take the bus that will take you to Nishi Umeda, then you take the subway to Namba and walk until you see Dōtonbori street. The place must be close to a shrimp store."

"Thank you," I smiled in relief. "You have been of a lot help." I said as I picked my luggage from the ground and began to make my way towards the crowded streets of a rushing city. Maybe, things are going to turn into my favor now. Maybe, from now on, things will change for me.

"You welcome!" The man yelled, "You should be there in no time, maybe at noon!"

I checked my watch and notice it was barely ten in the morning. Yes, I should be in my new home very soon.


	2. Chapter 2 Lost

**Chapter 2: Lost**

"I can't believe it," I whispered to myself as I look through the window of a yellow bakery. "I am LOST!" I finally proclaimed, admitting my failure. When I arrived to _Umeda_ and bought my subway ticket to _Namba_, I fell asleep in the middle of the trip, waking up at station M28 in _Kitahanada_, which forced me to take another trip all the way back. Nevertheless, the limo guy also has a tiny bit of blame because he gave me the wrong directions. I mean, I haven't seen my Uncle's house anywhere! But then, what kind of girl trusts a stranger? Haven't I watched the news recently? You can't trust anyone in the world because they are never honest with you. So much to keep my mom from worrying…if she knows what it is happening now, she will totally freak, if she hasn't already since I have not answer one of her calls ever since the one I did when walked down the airplane.

A sweet scent flooded the afternoon's air and made my stomach grew angrier because I haven't eat anything since I left the airport hours ago. Without anything else to do, I just kept gazing at the tray of small cakes that were inside this bakery store. In the top, the baker had placed a soft serve of whip cream that served almost like a cushion for the strawberry that crowned the pastry's sweet reign. I felt mesmerized by the little cake's beauty, wishing I could put my hands on it and try just one tiny piece. It was then, when I caught the reflection of someone. From the store's crystal window, I was able to discern a girl's fair face—under her light brown eyes a pair of purple lines made her looked tired and even a bit desperate. It didn't help much that her auburn hair resembled a tangled ball of yarn like the ones she often finds in her grandma's cabinet. As I gazed deeply at her, I could not help but wonder what my mom would think of this girl. She hates when I put my hair on a bun, claiming that only "lazy" girls do that. "Instead," she says, "might as well leave your hair loose." I undo my bun and let my hair fall reach my shoulders. I have to regain composure; I cannot let hunger transform me into a zombie of some sort…a food zombie.

_Grrrrr _I hear my stomach grumble. Quickly, I began to search for some extra change inside my jean's pocket. I know I had used my last spare coins when I bought the hot chocolate, but if life is good, it will put some coins inside my pocket just to prove that miracles do exist. As my fingertips reached inside and felt what it appeared to be a coin, I felt my flare up. A smile spread across my face, making me look less unkempt; however, it all was soon evaporated, just as fast as water under an incandescent summer sun, when I came to realize it was only a cheap, plastic spare button for my jacket.

How ironic! From all the things I could have in my pockets, I only have a sad, blue button. That is shameful.

_Ah, Great!_ I thought and looked to the button and then to the bakery.

Bakery to button.

Button to bakery.

Cake to button and button to cake.

Yes, there must be a reasonable way out of this mess, right? I just have to think positive and remember that things always happen for a reason. Let's just count to ten to calm my nerves down. One…Two…and…

I exploded.

"Ahhhhhhh, this is so unfair!" I began to yell loudly, losing control outside the store. This sudden change of mood dragged the attention of not only the people inside the bakery but also of those who were walking near me when the meltdown happened. Why wouldn't they notice anyway? I was not only was yelling as loud as my voice would allow me, but I also was the crazy girl speaking in English in the middle of downtown Osaka, but I am tired, weak, and I think I will cry because everything is going wrong and I don't know what to do! The world began to move faster just like time. In a matter of a couple of hours, night will fall and cover me with a dense, black sheet and then, what would I do? Where would I stay? I don't want to be homeless the first day of my arrival.

"This is it!" I cried louder, "I am going to DIE!"

In an unplanned move, I let the weight of my entire body fell to the ground. Tears began to cloud my sight slowly as they roll down silently down my cheek, I couldn't help but imagine where my carelessness could lead me; after all, I am just someone who dared to wonder alone in an unknown city with nothing else but a camera, a jacket, and some empty water bottles. Maybe, I can use them for possible self-defense weapons if someone tries to steal the little I have left.

For minutes, all I did was cry d and cry until the lenses of my mirror were smudge with tears. I took them off and began cleaning them with the sleeve of mu jacket when, suddenly, I noticed a tissue of paper right in front of me. I looked up and saw a girl.

"Here, for your glasses," she said in a thick English accent. "And, here, another one for, you know, your eyes."

"Thank you," I said. Even though I had a hard time looking to the buildings across the screen, I was able to notice certain things about this kind stranger, like, for instance, her hair. Her hair was brown, wavy, and just nothing like mine—it fall perfectly down her waist and it didn't hide her face which made her icy blue eyes stand out.

"Is everything ok? I noticed you were looking at the tray of cakes…are you hungry?"

I nodded while putting my glasses back on.

"I don't have any money left, so—".

"Come with me, I'll buy you something." She said while helping me stand up. At that point, I was not sure about what was really happening. I mean, a couple minutes ago, I was submerging myself into a pool of misery and self-pity and now, someone comes to rescue me and yeah, although I am supposed to know that talking to strangers is not the best way to solve my problems (isn't that right, limo guy?). I am just too tired to fight anymore. Furthermore, I rather spend the time with someone than just remain here, waiting for the sun to go down.

_Ding!_ The little bell on top of the bakery door rang as the kind stranger walked inside and held the heavy crystal door open for me. I stepped inside reluctantly. Right now, there is no way back.

* * *

A couple weeks before I made the long trip to Japan, I was checking out some pictures I had taken when my mom rushes inside my room, carrying her laptop. The picture of a girl with a frozen and polite smile, the kind you are forced to do when a photographer tries to take a yearbook picture, occupied most of the article's space. Without losing more time, my mom begins to talk to me about the girl in the picture, who happened to go to Spain and never came back.

"She vanished," she said, "No one has found her and police suspects of a guy she met in a party there."

I take a deep breath.

"I promise I won't party when I go to Japan," I say, still flipping through the pictures that were in my camera. "You know me; I can be quite the party girl."

I can feel my mom's eyes still fixed on me; perhaps, she is even giving me _that look. _My mom has a tendency to open her eyes widely (as wide as a tray plate) whenever I say something that she doesn't find quite funny or proper. My brother and I, in our outburst of creativity, decided to refer to this demeanor as the_ look. _

"Don't joke like that, Arianna. I just worry about you. That's all."

I stopped looking at the pictures and directed my attention to her.

"I know. You know, if it makes you feel better, I promise I won't talk to any stranger." And although I was being sarcastic then, I don't know if eating pastries with a kind stranger qualifies as talking to a stranger. Well, technically I am not only talking with a stranger. I am also eating with a stranger. Is there any difference? I sure hope there is.

"Did that really happened?" Rin—the kind stranger— asked, bringing me back to the present time. I smiled and dug my fork in a second slice of _ichigo cream _cake.

"Yeah, it did. After I wondered aimlessly for hours, I decided to jump off the bus and rethink my strategy. Anyway, when I wanted to check the address again, I realized that I had left my phone in the bus, which is the only place where I have it saved."

Rin simply nodded and remained silent for a while, limiting herself to finish slowly the last sip of her tea before placing the blue cup back on the table. I looked through the nearest window and let the view of nighttime Osaka sink deep within me. The lights of the various establishments were shining as bright as fire lights, which seemed to be attracting the attention of those who were walking down the street. It was as if they were under the effects of a powerful spell.

"So," Rin began speaking again, forcing me to look back at her and her curious stare. "If you come from the airport, where is your luggage? Did you forget it inside the bus too, Arianna?"

"No, I am not capable of forgetting something that big! It simply got stolen."

"Pardon me? Stolen?" Rin asked and leaned forward. "So, you mean all your belongings were taken away from you?"

"Yeah, a couple of guys just took my luggage and ran away," I sank in my chair, finishing the last of cake. For a moment, I felt embarrassed. I couldn't look at Rin, so I just dragged my attention to the floor. "There was no one else around, so I really couldn't ask for help. I walked around the city without money or food until I met you."

"Are you sure you can't remember the address at all? Maybe, if you are able to provide me with some reference, I can help you get where you need to go."

I forced myself to think deeply, trying to remember the address, but the more I thought of it, the more airheaded I felt. I know I should call home and ask my mom for some advice, but the thought of hearing her crazy meltdown made me felt sick, so I decided I could handle the issue myself; after all, I have to grow up and learn to relay on my own means. Come on, Arianna, you just need to concentrate. I closed my eyes, and instead of trying to think about the address itself, I tried to focus on my uncle's last text message. At first, all I could envision were the smiley faces he overused; at least, until I was able to remember that the last of them was placed right after the word "store." Did he write something about a shrimp store? No, no…wait, maybe a clothing store? Nah, that either…

Suddenly, I felt my heart sink.

He said something about a bakery store, a yellow bakery store! I looked at the bakery's walls and to my horror and delight; they were painted in a dark shade of yellow, one that resembled the color of mustard.

"What street is this, Rin?" I asked abruptly, perhaps, a little too loud too.

Rin blinked, "Dōtonbori. Does it sound familiar to you?"

"Dōtonbori" I repeated, letting the name resonate deep within my consciousness. "Yeah, it does!"

And once again, I came across like a DUMMY…DUMMY…DUUUUUMMMY! Gosh, how could I have been so blind? I had been in the right place all this time. Crap!

"Well, I have only seen one house near this area and that one is that little house between those restaurants, the ones that are across the bridge." Rin stood up from the chair and walked closer to the window, pointing to a direction at our left. "That's the place you are looking for," Rin announced while a warm smile speared across her face.

I gazed at the small and battered house. The white paint of its walls was fading, which made the red door take the spotlight and even though the house was surrounded by lively colors, someone had turned on the porch's dim light, perhaps in an attempt to make it more noticeable. It was easy to lose sight of it since it was the only building that didn't look as new or effervescent. Before walking out into the night, Rin insisted on giving me another cake to take home and after I thanked her, we went our separate ways. I crossed the bridge, feeling like a ghost floating through the streets. I felt fear settling in as I walked up to the house and stood right in front the window. Through the curtains, I saw the light of a lamp peering though, which leaded me to believe that someone must be already there. Slowly, I moved my hand to the doorbell but quickly took it back. I mean, can I trust my memory? It has been playing tricks with me all day long. What if I knock on the door and a creepy, old man just comes out and decides to "help me" inside. I refuse to appear on one online article! However, before I could run back and try to find Rin, the door creaked open and a tall man emerged. He wore black slacks, sleek shoes, and a familiar long coat with a tiny logo embroidered in golden thread.

"Riana! I knew you were going to make it home!" The man said and knelt down to hug me. "It took you more than what I imagined, but I am glad I didn't have to call the cops."

I had seen this man before.

"You? You are the limousine driver I met at the airport earlier today!"I complained, feeling anger running all through my system. So, let me get this straight. My uncle had been standing in the airport and he didn't even bother to tell me it was him! Or, more importantly, why didn't he take me home? He could have just dropped me here!

"Yes, it's me," he said and smiled. "Welcome home!"


	3. Chapter 3 Uncle Bill? whatever!

**Chapter 3: Uncle Bill, Uncle Billy, Uncle Dave…whatever!**

The clock in the kitchen marked seven in the morning. The sun began to shine shyly through the living room's single window and although I woke up early to grab a glass of water, tiredness was finally setting in and I was falling sleep again. The sweet aroma of fresh-scented covers filled my nostrils but just when I turned around to sink deeper into my dreams, I felt a pair of green eyes fixed on me.

"Ah!" I yelled as loud as I could. "What are you doing!?" I dug my head inside the covers, trying to forget my uncle's frozen smile and piercing eyes. He looked creepy, just like a living doll.

"Good morning! Did you sleep well?" My uncle asked, dipping his spoon inside a bowl of what looked like pasta Alfredo with some pieces of mango and strawberries as garnish. Ever since the incident yesterday, where he left me alone on purpose (yes, on purpose!) to find my way back home, I had been questioning my uncle's sanity and this breakfast is not helping his case because come on, who in their right mind eats _that _thing? Although, what can I expect of him? When I asked him why he didn't introduce himself as my uncle as soon as we met in the airport, he limited himself to tell me that it all had been part of an elaborate test so he could know the kind of niece I was. He said I passed with a fifty. Okay. Yeah, I know that's weird, but I decided not to complain about if; after all, if it were not for uncle and his persuasion skills, my mom would have freaked out when he called her and explained why I haven't answer any of the calls. Of course, he didn't tell her about my little adventure, but that's ok. I don't want her to be worried about me.

An awkward silence formed between both of us as I felt the cold morning air traveled the invisible gap between his bizarre world and mine. It's hard to imagine that someone who looks so normal with his dowdy blond hair and blue polo shirt could hide more than what meets the eye. In reality, uncle is like a Pandora box, ready to unleash his crazy ideas and philosophy to anyone who dares to ask him a simple question.

"So," he places his half-eaten bowl of "breakfast" on a table nearby before taking the sleeve of his polo shirt and wiping the corners of his mouth with it. "I apologize for making your first day here dreadful and miserable. I tend to be a bit—"

"Crazy." I interrupted without thinking it twice. Quickly, I covered my mouth with my right hand as if by doing this I could take back what I have just said. I was scared I had offended him, but the smile on his face told me the contrary.

"Uh, no. Impulsive, that's the word I was looking for! Although yeah, you won't be the first one to call me crazy. I am not that odd, but people have different ideas about what's normal and what's not." he paused for a while, running his hand through his hair. I noticed he was wearing a kid's watch. A happy face was painted on the watch's dial, but what caught my attention was the bright blue and red of the watch's hands.

"It's alright, Uncle Bill," I replied, scratching the back of my head. "Is that food good?" I ask, pointing to the breakfast bowl.

"Actually, it is. Oh, and by the way, today you can call me Uncle Dave," the man said, taking the bowl from the table and offering it to me. Up close, the breakfast special smelled a little bit like my dad's chicken casserole, which is not that big of a compliment. He usually puts tons of garlic and a secret spice that makes it acquire a strong, poignant smell that lingers in the air for hours.

"Ah, no, thank you, I'm not hungry," I lied politely. I can feel my stomach rumble faintly. Quickly, I grabbed the fluffiest pillow I found and placed it against my abdomen, trying to silent its cries. "Wait, so didn't you tell me yesterday your name was Bill?"

"Well yeah," he replied nonchalantly, " but I never liked having a single name. It makes me feel like I have been labeled, plus my real name is ugly. You should know that, your folks must have told you so."

I thought about the Christmas dinner and the conversation I had with my parents.

"Yes! They might have mentioned it."

Uncle Dave clapped his hands once and the noise made an echo in the room, "Great! You will have fun around here, Rianna. Trust me."

"Arianna," I corrected him. "My name is Arianna, uncle."

Since he sent me the message yesterday, Uncle Bill, I mean, Dave, or whatever his real name is has been getting my name wrong. At first, I thought it was a mere typo, but the more time I spend with him, the more I realize he truly didn't know my name. I hope he doesn't have a tendency to change other people's names too.

"Right," he said while standing up. "That's what I said, Rianna. Oh, would you look at the time? It's late!" He tapped the crystal of his childish watch before tousling my hair and walking inside the kitchen. I sighed. There's no way to get through his head. I remained on the living room's couch, which served like my bed yesterday, and notice that from where I was sitting I was able to see part of the house's narrow kitchen, especially its stainless sink, where Uncle was submerging his breakfast bowl into a pond of soapy water and yesterday's leftovers. Dave should know he is supposed to clean the sink before washing more dishes, but in case he is _that _oblivious to kitchen etiquette, I decided to take my glasses from the dirty floor and put them back on. I folded the blankets I used the previous night as fast as I could before walking inside the kitchen and making sure my uncle didn't need any help. Once there, I was surprised to see that the sink (despite its mess) was the only thing that looked usable. The cabinets—although large and commodious— were made of rotten wood and it didn't help that I was able to see some paint stains decorating their damaged surface. They looked like those sinks in any art room, you know, the ones people stain when they clean their brushes. In addition, the counters had a lot of cracks and dents, almost as if someone had battered them with a heavy hammer.

"There are plates on the left shelf," Uncle said without looking at me. "And the cake you brought yesterday is in the fridge. You know, in case you change your mind and you are hungry."

I clenched my fists as I felt my nails dig into my skin. If the counters and cabinets are neglected, I can only imagine how the fridge will be. I imagine there will be rotten food cascading from every drawer and every plastic container; perhaps, I will even get the chance to see some bugs breeding inside an old piece of beef. Ugh! The thought of it sends chills to my spine, but I need to save my cake. Feeling brave, I placed my right hand on the fridge's handle and pulled toward me, feeling something sticky adhered to my palm; however, once I managed to open the fridge wide enough, I was surprised to see nothing else inside it except my pastry. Right there, in the middle, my strawberry cake was the only food decorating the otherwise empty fridge. I began to wonder if my uncle was planning to let me know that we were out of food; however, before I could even mutter a word, the water stopped running.

"By the way," uncle said after closing the faucet. Little drops fall and made low splashing noises before the room submerged into a complete and absolute silence. I heard the distant chatter of the people outside, talking about their businesses. It seems Dōtonbori Street is ready for another busy day. "We are not staying here. Today, we are taking a bus to Bunkyō, Tokyo. That's where you school is."

I put my cake on a generic, white plate and sat down in the only chair in the room. While I ate, my uncle explained a friend of his, Hamazaki, is the actual owner of this "house" (if this can be considered like one). He also mentioned that he has been working for the limousine company for only five months; however, he has saved enough to get all the money he needed in order to rent a house in Bunkyō.

"I have another surprise for you," Uncle Dave said as he took my empty breakfast plate from my hands and placed it in a counter nearby. I noticed his green eyes were open widely, which remind me a lot of my mom and the way she looks at me; however, unlike her, he was not upset with me. There was something exceptional about the manner in which his emotions seemed to mirror his genuineness, and that made me felt a little bit calmer. He hides nothing. What my eyes are able to see, that's what my mind gets. "We are going shopping!"

"Uh?"

"Yes, shopping!" Uncle Dave repeated; however, this time he did it while singing a weird, high-pitched tune as he brandished to the air what seemed to be a credit card. I stared at him without moving from my seat, trying to grasp the situation that was happening. I mean, I don't want to sound offensive but it's weird to meet a man who is around his thirties and feels so enthusiastic with the idea of a shopping spree. At home, the only one that plans long trips to the mall is my mom. Whenever she doesn't cook dinner, we find ourselves going to Durant Square Mall, where a quick, family dinner in the food court turns into three hours of walking around in circles until my mom finds something she didn't know she needed but ended up realizing she had to buy it, if that makes any sense. If I were to be honest, I would confess that for me shopping isn't the type of heavenly experience that _Seventeen _magazine makes it to be. Sure, most of my friends say they wish they had a mom like mine because she is always buying me clothes and stuff, but I don't see the appeal on that especially when she buys things _she _thinks will look good on me. Nevertheless, today is an exception because I can feel a rush of adrenaline running from my head all the way down to my feet.

"That's a great idea!" I replied as I gave a really open and transparent smile. I felt my muscles relax as I sank deeper in the chair; after all, it was a relief to know that I don't have to use the same pair of tight jeans for one year. Those guys who took away my luggage don't have an idea of the favor they just made me—No more silly and tight clothes! This time around, I will pick my stuff because it is comfy and not because it matches with the magazine's _How to dress for fashion success_ article.

"I know!" Uncle Dave squinted while looking at my shirt. "…Although, we might have to find something for you to wear in the meantime since look! You have a couple of cake spots all over your shirt."

I looked to my shirt and notice tiny spots of cream and strawberry jelly smeared right at the bottom of it.

"Wait a second," Uncle said before leaving the kitchen and running to a room next to the living room. I heard him move stuff around until he came back with a t-shirt on his hand. "This is Hamazaki's but I think it will fit you. He is a tiny folk."He said and handed the shirt to me, which was at least three sizes bigger than what I normally would wear, but, hey! At least, it was crisp clean. So clean, that its white color remind me of dandelions. Once I put it on and fixed my hair, we were ready to leave. Uncle Dave said the store was just two blocks away, so we ended up walking. It was refreshing to see how many people were in the streets and even riding their bike to work. In Oakland, California—my hometown—is extremely uncanny to see people riding a bike this early, and it is even stranger to see many of them wishing my uncle a nice day. I mean, in Oakland, people are so immersed in their own business that they won't notice anything else but the starbucks on their hand. I was no longer in my old home, and that was for sure.

I kept looking around, absorbing the scene just like a sponge would absorb water, and when we were reaching the corner of the first block, Uncle asked me about my life at home, my mom (his sister), my brother, and Grandpa Louis. Apparently, he hasn't seen them since he graduated from college, a long time ago. He even told me about the last time he saw everybody, including me. I was just seven years old and getting ready to be an elf in a school's play, which happened to be one day before a big, family reunion that was going to take place at my dad's new restaurant. Uncle swears he brought to the play's opening night a huge poster that Hamazaki had helped him designed one evening at their university's library. Sadly, I can't remember about it.

"Why didn't you stay in Oakland if you miss everyone so much?" I asked as we stopped in front of a crossing street.

"Well, America became dull," uncle replied. "It has the same stuff every day. I been all around the States twice, you know. Europe was so yesterday, and Canada is a bit too—"

"Too cold?"

"Oh no! I love the cold weather. Canada is just too Canadian for me. Plus, Hamazaki always talked highly of his country and he was right. I liked this place, so I stayed."

Suddenly, the light turned red and we were able to walk to the other side. My mom has told me before about my uncle and his apparent need of searching new experiences and places. Ever since he was a little kid, my uncle has always been an explorer and doesn't like to be in one place for long. When his classmates spent their recess playing, my uncle spent his fixing old pocket watches and anything else he could get. As time went by, my uncle's knowledge and his famous impatience helped him graduate from college when he was about my age. After that, he pursuit other degrees and when he was done, he decided to focus on his favorite hobby—inventing. From what he told me, most of his creations were rarely a success.

"I keep trying though because sooner or later things come to place and everything is like it is supposed to be just like it happened in that late night TV show. I just knew the cake would hit that girl in the head and not in the face because that's the natural behavior of chocolate cakes. They are sneaky, like monkeys."

"Monkeys, right." I repeated and before I could ask anything else, a tall shadow blocked the sun's light. I blinked and when I open my eyes, I saw a building that took my breath away. Right there, in front of us, the mall unfolded its majestic construction up to the blue sky almost as if it was trying to reach something that my eyes couldn't see. I know we have places like this back in California, but there was something so enchanting about the prospect of walking inside a new place; it's kind of like a metamorphosis or a confirmation. Yeah, a confirmation that tells me there is no way back. This is my new reality and every little thing I see and every establishment I visit becomes part of my new life. Maybe, this sounds a bit dramatic, but there's no feeling that can compare to the one you get when you walk inside a new place and everything seems new and unknown. Without guidance, you can get lost. I fear if that were to happen. I don't want to be a drifting boat.

When the mall's automatic doors open, even the air smelled different. Suddenly, I feel my Uncle's heavy hand on my shoulder as he points to the left and tells me that's where the clothing store is. Without knowing anything else, I followed him because I decided to trust him. Even if I don't know his real name, he is still my uncle. Uncle Dave, Bill, or whatever, he is my family.


	4. Chapter 4 Mr Blue

**Chapter 4: Mr. Blue.**

"This is your real home for the next year. What do you think, Rianna? Do you like it?" Uncle Willy, also known like Bill or Dave, asked when he walked inside his house and turned the first light on. Sure, the house has a more homey feeling since it has spacious hallways and a descent size kitchen with cabinets that are not falling apart; however, it still looks like a war zone. Earlier on the week, uncle told me he had moved from Hamazaki's garage all his inventions. Now, huge metal pieces were blocking most of the first floor's windows and staining the living's room wooden floor with dark, oil puddles. If this were not enough, all around the place, I caught a glimpse of various tools and blue prints; in fact, some needle nose pliers and screwdrivers had fallen in the kitchen's sink and were starting to rust.

"I know I need to clean a bit, but that can be done later. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back."

Uncle throws to the floor his sports bag and nearly drops several boxes that were labeled as "fragile;" however, before I could suggest him to be more careful, he was already delving deeper into the house. I remained near the entrance door, letting the new scene sink in my thoughts. Right now, with all this dead machinery and tools around me, is a bit hard to imagine myself living a whole year here. Oddly enough, even with the chaos, I felt a strange sense of relief; after all, it was good to know I wouldn't be sleeping in the living room because truth o be told, I could use a little bit more of privacy to rest after today's long trip. Yesterday, when we left Osaka, I wasn't expecting to arrive to Bunkyō at five a.m., so I didn't sleep at all while we were on the bus. It didn't help that the seats were stiff and the person in front of me insisted on moving his seat all the way back, crushing my knees, but that's beside the point. By the time we walked down, my eyes felt as heavy as a pair of rocks and the pain that roamed all through my body was simply too much to bear, especially when it lingered longer in my arms and legs.

I put my bags down on the floor and began making my way towards the living room, where, after moving away some bags full of screws, I found an old couch to sit. Tired, I let my body fall right on the couch's pillows, even if a faint, musty scent was exuding from them.

"Rianna!" Uncle walked back into the living room, emerging from the dark hallway. "Here, this is for you." He said and gave me two bags and a pamphlet. I put the pamphlet on my lap before opening the first bag and taking out a new set of new blankets and a matching pillow.

"Ah, thank you, Uncle. I will put them on my bed as soon as I know where I am sleeping."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you! I sleep on a futon, you know, that flat mattress you on the floor. I thought you would be into experiencing everything about the Japanese culture, so I bought you one too. Though, if you feel uncomfortable, I promise you I will get a bed as soon as I can."

Perhaps, my fatigue had already conquered my brain because instead of imagining insects creeping to my lips while I sleep on the floor, all I did was to nod and agree with my uncle's plans; after all, I am not very sensitive anyway.

"Wait, there's something else inside that bag. Take it out. It needs fresh air."

Fresh air? Quickly, I sat straight up in couch, making the pamphlet fall from my lap. What could my uncle possibly put inside the bag that would need fresh air? Trembling, I put my hand inside the plastic bag and immediately I felt something soft caressing my skin. It felt as if I was touching a towel, a very fluffy towel.

Slowly, I took the object out and, indeed, it was a towel with something inside it…

"The surprise is wrapped in there" Uncle pointed out. Carefully, I began unfolding whatever was inside the towel until a pair of button-like eyes met with mine.

"A teddy bear? I asked, looking at the little bear, which light brown plush—although soft—seemed to have a couple of darker stains. When I leaned to look closer at his eyes, I notice a couple of scratches too. Call it a "hunch" but I suspect my uncle got the teddy bear from a thrift store; however, before I could even ask about it, he rushed to my side and took a seat next to me.

"His name is…uh…" my uncle took the teddy bear (gently) from my hands and looked around the room, stopping when he saw a blue ink spot on the coffee table's surface. "Mr. Blue! And he is all yours." he said triumphantly, rising the bear to the ceiling, almost as if it was some sort of trophy.

"Uh, but Uncle, I am sixteen' I don't play with—"

"You will need it, Riana." uncle said confidently. "You know, your mom used to say that the reason why girls like to keep stuff animals is because they need someone that would keep their secrets safe. Of course, she said this when she was around nine years old, but I thought to myself, hey! Maybe Rianna would need one of this; after all, you are about to start a whole new chapter in your life."

Mr. Blue's eyes looked very big in comparison to his nose, which seemed to have been pushed downward, making him look like a crossing between a bear and a bulldog. Still, there was something charming about it. Maybe, it was Mr. Blue's size— he was no bigger than the palm of my hand, and that made him kinda cute. At that point, all I could do was smile. For some reason, I wasn't able to speak; in fact, all I could hear was the sound of the living room blinds hit each other whenever the air decided to changed its direction.

"Here, I will put Mr. Blue in the coffee table, next to the spot that inspired his name," uncle finally said, setting us free from our short-lived silence's spell. "Now, I want you to look at this."

He picked the pamphlet from the floor and handed it back to me. The first thing that caught my attention was the expensive the choice of paper. During the Super Bowl season, my dad had the brilliant idea of hiring a printing company to do coupons for his restaurant. Purposely, he chose an economical, glossy paper since he thought some people would ended up throwing them away anyway; however, whoever designed these pamphlets didn't think about that. They were printed in a matte paper that prevented light from reflecting on the surface, which made the breathtaking picture on the front stand out even more. Behind a perfectly cut front lawn, I saw a tall building that looked just like a medieval castle. When I flipped the pamphlet open, I found more pictures of that same building; in addition to some others that were showing people wearing light blue jackets and Victorian-style dresses.

"Is this an amusement park?" I asked while looking a picture where a group of girls was having a tea party in what appeared to be a huge rose garden.

"Uh? No!" Uncle laughed, "That, my child, is your new school: the Ouran Academy."

"WHAAAAAT?" I stood abruptly from the coach, making the second plastic bag (the one I have not open) fall to the ground, exposing the sleeve of a yellow dress, just like the one the girls in the pamphlet were wearing.

"Oh, careful there, Rianna. You don't want to stain your uniform."

"Uniform?" I repeated, trying to stop my lips from trembling. "That thing is a uniform?" Uncle knelt down and quickly picked the dress.

"Well, yeah…and—"

"And uncle, I don't know much about expenses but look at the pamphlet. I don't like all the zeros that are under to the _tuition costs_ section. _OhGoshOhGoshOhGoshOhGosh!_" I said rapidly, almost losing my breath as I passed back and forward. moving my right hand up and down in a rhythmic motion. As I did this, I began to wonder how it was possible for my uncle to pay for something like that when we didn't have any real food to eat while we were staying at home Hamazaki's house. I mean, even if my parents are sending him money every month to help him with my expenses, I don't know if we can afford something so ludicrous and so big!

"Hey!" uncle grabbed me by shoulders, stopping me before I could hit my right knee with one of the coffee table's corners. "Calm down, Rianna. Here, talk to Mr. Blue."

He took Mr. Blue from the table and gave it to me along with the uniform, which, by the way, was heavier than what I thought.

"Once you are done talking to Mr. Blue, you can take a shower and get ready. School starts soon and you have orientation to attend. Also, I have an appointment with the chancellor, so chop-chop. Let's get moving."

Uncle Willy pushed me to the hallway before turning around and walking to the kitchen. Great! This is just great! Can you believe it, Mr. Blue? Not only does Uncle make me get lost in Osaka, but he also forgets to tell me that a) I am attending this Ouran place and b) I am going to orientation today! Someone should teach him how to do a schedule because he doesn't know how to plan a day; plus, how the heck am I supposed to get ready? He hasn't tell me which room is mine. Heck, he hasn't even shown me the way to the bathroom.

I sigh.

This is not the best way to kick-start the day.


	5. Chapter 5 Orientation

**Chapter 5: Orientation.**

After eating a pack of cookies, I found myself in the passenger's seat of my uncle's white Honda. I don't know much about cars, but after hearing the Honda's motor, I am assuming is quite old and in need of a maintenance check. One light was blinking in the dashboard and when I pointed out to my uncle, he said it was nothing; after all, he made the car run again and was sure it was just a false alarm. By the time we arrived to the Ouran Academy, he was late for his appointment, so before we could even walk down from the car, he took my right hand and scribbled with red ink the directions to Ouran's auditorium number three, which is where orientation is already taking place. Unfortunately, whenever we combine my uncle's directions and my incapacity of following them accurately, nothing good comes out of it.

"Great, where do I go from here?" I whispered as I gazed at the school's empty corridors. I saw nothing but rows and rows of paintings hanging in the walls, taunting me with their oiled colored eyes. There was no one there, not even a lonely ghost. "I'm lost." I admitted and pulled the uniform's long collar away from my skin, trying to stop the itching that was pinching neck. With this long collar, I cannot help but feel as if someone (or something) was trying to choke me, although that could be my already exasperated self. In this moment, even the slightest flutter of a fly's wing can send me to the edge. However, this is not the time or place to have a meltdown.

"Ok, so according to my uncle's directions, I should turn," I looked down to my right palm and read for the tenth time the same directions. "Left?"

Uncle's writing was starting to smear; I guess, thanks to my sweaty palms. Unable to read the directions, I decided to walk back to the stairs, but just as I began tracing my way back to the hallway, I hear a door shutting close. I turned around and saw a group of girls walking out, giggling uncontrollably. Could this door be the one I have been searching? Without losing any time, I decided to check it out; after all, this was the most promising sign I have received so far. I stopped in front of this grand, white door and placed my hand on its golden knob, feeling a cold chill ran down my spine. I swung it open and as soon as I did so, a bright light blinded me and I was only able to see seven different shadows standing inside the room. A soft music began to play.

"Welcome" the shadows chanted in unison. I blinked a couple of times and opened my eyes slowly, noticing a tall guy standing right in the middle."Welcome," they repeated again. "Welcome to the Art club."

The Art Club? I arrived to some geeky art club? No way! The people inside the classroom were sitting on individual drawing desks, surrounding what I thought was a still life of some sort. Suddenly, I remembered a conversation I had with dad, back when I thought I wanted to be an artist.

_"Dad I want to study art!" My ten-year-old self said happily, munching on a sandwich._

_ "Oh no honey, I don't think that will be wise." My dad said while flipping the pages of his Sunday newspaper._

_ "Why not, daddy?" _

_"Because, honey, the models pose naked."_

Oh! But what am I even thinking? We are high school students. We are lucky to get an apple to model for us without considering either sexually or psychologically damaging. I don't think school rules can deviate _that_ much from high school to high school, right? Plus, even if a person was modeling for a high school art class, I think I would have seen him or her already…

"Rianna, what are you doing here? I heard someone (very familiar) ask. "Are you lost?"

I couldn't answer anything. When his green eyes met with mine, I felt my heart drop as my dad's voice began to run through my mind, almost as if he were a show's narrator.

_Oh no honey, the models pose naked_

_ The models pose naked_

_Pose naked_

_NAKED!_

The color of my skin drained away. Now, I get why my uncle needed to be here early. It was not an appointment he had to attend, but a stupid meeting with the art club! He had to come here to pose so they could draw him nak… I mean, he was… No, I can't even say it! It is too traumatic.

"Rianna, hey wait up!" Uncle said and stepped down from wherever he was standing. Scared, I decided to flee. I left the door open and began running without stopping, not even for a second, to see the truth. Perhaps, if I had been more observant, I would have seen uncle wearing a pair of shorts; however, it was too late. Now, I am running without direction, losing myself even more in this weird and unusual place, the so-called Ouran Academy.

* * *

By the time I realized I was in a different hallway, my legs have started to feel heavy. I lay against the closest wall, right next to a white vase with red roses, which delicate scent circled the entire place and brought a sense of calmness, which I haven't feel since my arrival to Japan. The warm sunrays peered through the windows and warmed my skin, immersing me more into my own thoughts, into my own world. Through the silence, I heard footsteps approaching towards me, but it didn't bother me. I figured it was uncle, who probably had followed my trace. I didn't want to hear any explanation from him. What could he possibly say to defend his case? Still, I'm too tired to move.

The footsteps stopped.

"Arianna?" Someone asked. That accent, I had heard it before. I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face staring right at me. Wow, what are the odds of something like this happening? I am not good at Statistics; in fact, I haven't even taken a Statistic class before, but I assume the probabilities must be one in a million or something. I mean, it's a wild guess. Who knows!

"Ah, um, hi, Rin! I…" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and cleared my throat, buying me some time. "I was on my way to the auditorium for orientation, but I got lost. Again."

Rin gave me a cold stare that seemed to look beyond my eyes and felt almost as if she was trying to read what really went through my mind. When she was wearing that uniform, Rin didn't look as approachable as she did they day I met her; I mean, even though we were dressed in the same pompous uniform, there was something in the way she carried it, perhaps, a certain poise I didn't have.

"You missed the auditorium's ceremony. It just ended." Rin said solemnly.

"Did I? Oh, that's not good." I said looking down at my feet. Maybe, if I haven't overreacted in the art room, I would have been able to find my way back sooner.

"Well, although I cannot comprehend how it was possible for you to get lost, it's my duty as as class president to ensure the well being of our students, so, please, follow me."

Rin grabbed my hand gently and dragged me to the opposite end of the hallway. Although her touch wasn't harsh, they way she was pulling my body was anything but delicate. She walked giving quick steps, which I was unable to mirror. We toured the school's ground for a while and even crossed a small patio with a fountain that was so big that look more like a lake. The still water reflected the clear blue sky above our head and gave the entire scenery a more peaceful feeling. I imagine this is where students must come when they start feeling stressed.

"We are here," Rin announced, stopping in front of an old door, right near the fountain. I looked at her confused. Weren't we supposed to attend orientation? "A couple things you should remember: orientation started a while ago and it's possible someone is giving a welcome speech as we talk, so if that is the case, please remain silent, and follow me to my table."

Rin flashed a quick smile before putting her hand on the metal handle. The door opened with a loud crack and unlike the bright light at the art room, this time, nothing blinded my sight; except, maybe the fancy décor that unfolded its flamboyant style right in front of me. I have heard about elegant restaurants before; in fact, my dad proposed to my mom in one of them while they both drank champagne and shared a dessert. Still, I don't think it can compare to Ouran's garden, which someone decorated just as if it were banquet hall. There was white and light purple drapery hanging from some columns at the far end, where, right in front of them, a large table with different types of snack was placed. An orchestra (which I assumed must be the school's orchestra) was playing some ballads as people talked and served themselves small cups of tea, perfect for today's fresh morning.

"Excellent! It seems we arrived just in time. Breakfast hasn't been served," Rin said and waved to a girl sitting in a table close to the orchestra. "Come with me."

"Ah, Rin," I said, moving her hand from my wrist. "Where are we? You said I had missed orientation at the auditorium."

"Oh, I am sorry if I did not explain myself correctly. Yes, you did miss the orientation's initial meeting; however, you are on time to attend Ouran's welcome breakfast, and do not panic. We would find your class presidents and ask them to explain to you the things you missed. By any chance, do you know your class rank?"

I nodded. Earlier today, Uncle mentioned something about it.

"2-B."

Rin smiled, "Well, are you not the luckiest girl? I am one of the class presidents from 2-B. I can explain everything you missed early, but hurry! My friend is waiting for us."

We walked through the garden, trying not to run into the waiters, until we arrived to the table where a girl with short, brown hair was waiting for Rin. Rin introduced us and after politely exchanging our greetings, I was invited to sit. Rin and her friend talked for a while before she excused herself and walked towards another table, where another group of girls where motioning for her to come. As soon as she was gone, a waiter rushed to our table and gave Rin and I three small bowls, which contained three different things: some sort of soup, rice porridge, and soybeans.

"What kind of fish would you like to have today?" The waiter, a young man with deep dark hair and matching eyes, asked, leaning forward.

"I would have the salmon. Tell the chef to add a splash of lemon juice while cooking it. Believe me; I would be able to know if he doesn't do as requested," Rin smiled sweetly while looking at me. "Arianna, would you like salmon as well?"

"Oh," I began speaking. "Sure, but I mean it's not necessary. These will do." I pointed at the bowls before dragging the first one closer to me.

"Arianna don't be ridiculous! The fish is part of a traditional Japanese breakfast. You have to have it. Bring her a salmon too." Rin requested. The waiter nodded and walked away, leaving us alone. Rin took a pot from the center of the table and began pouring green tea inside a porcelain cup. Following her example, I tried to pour myself some tea, but no one ever told me that the pot was _that_ heavy. Rin must be stronger that what I imagined.

"Here, let me help you." She said and poured the tea herself.

"Thank you," I mutter and drank the beverage immediately. Although the green colored water made the tea look everything but appealing, the taste was not as bad as I had imagined it, but that could be because I added four spoons of sugar.

"Just to give you a heads up," Rin began speaking, her face growing solemn. I placed the empty porcelain cup on the table before looking straight at her. "I know about your situation and although I think you are a sweet girl, I do not think people here would be as understanding as me."

"What do you mean?"

"You are not like us. This world is new for you, and people have a hard time sharing it with newcomers like you, especially when they get accepted to this school through scholarships. The school doesn't give them away often, so if you have one, that puts you at greater social risk. "

"I'm sure some people might have a hard time understanding my background at first, but there has to be someone who would embrace it, right? Just like you did."

Rin shook her head, "Oh, Arianna. This is not your typical school. Believe me, if I tell you this is because I don't want you to see you get hurt. When I was in middle school, I heard Ouran accepted a first year high school student who came from an economically disadvantaged home. I never met him personally, but I would never forget the day I saw a couple of people pushing this guy down the fountain, the one you just saw. I mean, it was awful. He looked desperate and the worst part was that I was too young to do something about it."

The waiter walked back and placed in front of us a plate with a complete grilled salmon. Its skin had turned golden and crisp while its dead, dark eyes started absently straight to me. I felt a bit uneasy although I don't know if it was because of the dead fish on my plate or Rin's words. Rin began eating her rice, dipping her portions inside a soy container. I began thinking about my days at Dale Harris where I managed to make some friends despite we belonged to different social classes; however, I don't think the same rules are going to apply at Ouran. This display of expenditure and elegance beyond measure only confirms what Rin said.

"Arianna," Rin says and places her hand on my shoulder. "As your class president, the first advice I can give you is to never mention where you come from. People will not ask if you do not give them a reason. I just do not want to see you runaway like that young man did. Sadly, the majority of students have a hard time accepting commoners like you."

After that last remark, we didn't touch the subject again. We just ate while Rin explained me what I had missed in orientation. As she did, I found myself zooming out here and there, hoping no one will never find out how different I am from them.


	6. Chapter 6 New Day

After the orientation, we had a couple of weeks before classes could begin. In the mornings leading to my first day at Ouran, Uncle took some time to help me practice my Japanese. Even though my mom hired Mr. Austin, a Japanese tutor, as soon as I stopped going to Dale Harris, I haven't feel very confident to use what I learned. Sure, I am able to understand things, but I still have some problems reading _hiragana_ and pronouncing things right. What can I say? Languages have never been my forte, but I know I have to try my best, so when school starts I can know what I am doing. I need to be able to understand my professors and take notes properly because the last thing I want is to make my mom upset…again. I have to prove her that I am still the same Arianna that was accepted to Dale Harris—the same good student who kept her GPA above 3.5—and not the girl who was expelled just for committing one mistake. I mean, we are not perfect and things can always change. For example, my Japanese is not the only thing that has changed lately. In the last days, Uncle had spent a good amount of time organizing and cleaning the house, something that I would have never thought he would do. I don't feel trapped inside four stained walls anymore; in fact, I can actually see myself coming back home every afternoon without tripping with his boxes and tools, which Uncle now keeps inside an empty room that he likes to call his "hobby studio." It's not a big room, but he seems happy with it, so I guess I am happy for him too.

"Uh, what are you doing?" I asked when Uncle came rushing to the kitchen, wearing a black apron and rubber gloves. He knelt and opened the cabinets under the sink, taking out a big bottle of bleach and some other cleaning essentials.

"I'm cleaning your room, Rianna. You are starting at Ouran tomorrow, so you deserve a germ-free room." Uncle said before standing up. Since orientation day, I have slept in the living room because he found out that my future bedroom was not only dirty and dusty but also very unsafe. According to him, it seemed no one had ever given it some maintenance. Doors wouldn't close properly and there were some pieces missing from the floor; in fact, one part of the floor had collapsed and sunk deep into the dirt ground, and that's why uncle had taken upon himself to work on it all this past week. He went to the library multiple times— in his "hobby studio," he had spread all across the floor different books about construction and traditional Japanese architecture. More than one time, I caught him studying and taking notes late into the night. Sometimes, I wondered if he even slept at all.

"Here," I stood up from the small breakfast table. "You need this more than me."

"You are giving me the last brownie? Well, thank you." Uncle asked, feigning a dramatic bow. Something I have learned about my uncle in the course of these days is that he loves pastries as much as he loves inventing and fixing things. Come on! His definition of breakfast is a slice of cake served with a side of chocolate chip cookies. That's how much he loves sweets. Still, no one would guess about his bad eating habits because with his thin arms and languish body, uncle appears just as your regular guy. Though, despite of his thinness, uncle has an uncanny strength and is able to lift things that are (at least) two times his own weight. I am guessing those are the perks that come with inventing stuff.

"Thank _you_. You are the one who is fixing my room," I replied, smiling faintly. "Well, it's getting late and I haven't called my mom yet. You know she freaks out if we don't call her daily."

"Before you do that, I want to show you how I fixed your room's floor. Let's go!"

Uncle put the brownie inside his mouth and walked back towards my room. I simply followed. Once we were standing in front of the room's sliding doors, uncle put the bleach bottle down and slid them wide open. I couldn't believe what I saw. I thought I was standing in another place, even another time.

"Do you see the floor? I replaced it with _tatami_, which is a rice straw mat that is covered with _igusa,_ or woven soft rush straw, and do you notice your door looks like a large window? Well, people here know this type of door as a _shōji _although, traditionally, these can also be used like a window, or even a room divider," Uncle explained before standing next to it. "See, you put a special type of paper over a frame of wood, which is held together by a grid. Isn't that genius? I know it's not like the doors you are used to see, but do you like how it all turned out?"

I nodded, "Thank you, Uncle. This means a lot to me."

"No problem. Now, go and talk to your mom and then go rest or take a shower," he said while opening the bleach bottle and pouring some of its content inside a plastic tub. "I will just get rid of these weird stains and you can come here and arrange your things the way you want. Don't forget Mr. Blue! He wants to see his new home too."

I smiled.

"Ok, I won't." And with that, I moved on to do my usual, daily routine. I wish I could say the rest of the day went as smoothly as my Uncle's repairs. He finished cleaning early, which meant I had plenty of time to put my stuff there and officially end my move. However, I overlooked something very important. In fact, I didn't overlook it; I simply decided to actively ignore it. I am talking about the dreadful "first day jitters." As the day ended, anxiety began to invade my body, conquering my mind and even my stomach.

I woke up two hours before I planned, feeling warm and sweaty. My stomach was grumbling—almost as if I was getting sick—causing me a terrible nausea. I wanted to hide under my blankets and close my eyes; perhaps, in that way, I can forget about everything that's coming my way. However, before I could even think to go back to sleep, I hear heavy steps coming from the hallway next to the kitchen space. Suddenly, they stopped but not for long. Pots and pans were clashing against each other, making loud, metallic sounds.

"Rianna, what are up so early?" Uncle asked when I walk into the kitchen and sat in one of our two wooden stools. "Oh, no! I woke you up, didn't I? Bakets! I knew I had to leave my thermos out the night before, but— I…"

"It's ok, uncle," I replied, trying to hold back a yawn. "I was awake already, but who cares anyway. Uncle, I feel very good. Did you make breakfast? No? Well, I will make my own." I was about to jump off my seat when uncle extended his right hand in front of me.

"Wow, slow down there. Are you feeling ok? You seem…rushed? Maybe?" Uncle asked, looking straight at me. I didn't reply. For some reason, I couldn't manage to mutter a word, so I just opted to stay sit, gazing at him. Uncle took a deep breath before walking away and taking out from the fridge the plastic white jar that we use to keep our drinkable water fresh. He poured some inside the thermos carefully, only letting some drops slip through his fingers. That's when I notice he wasn't wearing his usual banana print pajamas. Instead, uncle had on a stained pair of gray sweats and a bright yellow sweatshirt that matched (oddly enough) his running shoes.

"Are you going for a run?" I asked abruptly, already knowing the answer. "Oh, did you saw the news today? The weatherman says we will have a sunny day, which reminds me of Oakland. Did I tell you I love oaks? Oh, and fish too. Fish are so cute," I paused. "By the way, I'm not nervous at all. I'm fine. Totally fine."

"Ah, so that's it! You are nervous to start Ouran today." Uncle said, smiling brightly.

"NO! I just told you I wasn't nervous at all." I said while hitting the table with my nails. Uncle remained silent for a couple of seconds, simply looking at me with a mixture of confusion and amazement.

"Come on, put some shoes on. Let's go for a walk. It will calm you down."

He said and handed me his thermos, which was transparent. I wonder if it really keeps water as fresh as its manufacturer label claims it does. Unable to think anything better to do, I gave in and decided to start my day with lazy, morning walk. Little did I know, this would be the most normal thing I ended up doing my first day at Ouran High Academy.

* * *

The sleepy sunrays collided through our building's respective window and passed through my half-empty water container nonchalantly, almost regally. I held the thermos in front of me, making sure that its angle matched the one of the mighty noon's rays and as soon as both of them were aligned, the light hit the bottle's plastic design and caressed the water's tranquil surface, creating a contrast of dull and vibrant colors. It looked so beautiful that soon it caught me. My attention was so immersed in the phenomenon that I didn't hear Rin calling my name until it was just a bit too late.

"Arianna, are you feeling alright?" A concerned Rin asked as soon as I snapped back from my trance. The whole morning had been such a blur… with the new culture, teacher, peers, and classes, I haven't had the proper time to adjust to my reality. It seemed that my day had gone by so fast because I can barely believe we are already in lunch period.

"Oh yes, I am. I was just… thinking."

"All right, if you are done thinking, would you mind introducing yourself? Rin asked while looking at me attentively, almost as if she was urging me to put my act together. We were already sitting in one of Ouran's fancy cafeteria tables—the staff had placed soft linens at the table, complimenting the white table cloths, as well as the fresh-cut flowers that were decorating each seat. The place was soon crowded with students who were chatting avidly as they got ready to enjoy another tasty and expensive meal, which happened to have some sort of French cuisine's theme.

"Ah, yes. Sure," I sat straight, fixing my glasses and putting my thermos and a paper bag on the table. "I am Arianna Carson. Well, I guess my real name here is Carson Arianna because here you use last names first and—"

"What's that?" Rin suddenly interrupted, cutting my introduction short.

"Eh, what do you mean?" I asked, looking at her and then to the girl sitting across from me. She is in our same class, and I think her name is Kanako. We haven't been introduced formally, so I can always be wrong with my assumptions. I have to say though that Rin's reaction threw me off a bit; I mean, since the day I arrived, Rin has stayed with me through thick and thin and even though she is very popular, Rin prefers to spend her time with me—Me! From all the people she could be talking to at lunchtime, she wants to talk to me and that just means a lot. I am grateful for my luck, but still…what's her deal?

"I think Rin wants to know about your peculiar bag, and before we go any further, let me say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. Kāson. That is how you say it in America. Am I correct? I am Kasugazaki Kanako by the way, and it is nice to meet you." Kanako said. Now, I know I was right with her name.

"Kasugazaki-san is right. Arianna, why do you have a paper bag with you?" Rin asked and took form the table a fine china cup filled with tea. "I want to make a guess and say that probably that bag is something you found casually and decided to toss to the trash later. Those Art club students, they always bring stuff like this to school grounds, and for that I apologize."

"Actually," I began speaking, pressing the bag closer to my chest. "This is my lunch."

"WHAT?" Rin said and stood abruptly from her seat before hitting the surface of the table with her hands. The chair behind her fell backwards and collapsed on the floor, destroying completely the nonchalant atmosphere. For a moment, everyone stopped talking and turned their heads to face Rin.

"Rin, I think you better sit down." Kanako whispered as soon as she acknowledged the situation. Rin did not say a word; instead, she silently knelt to the ground and picked from the floor the wooden chair before putting it back in place and sitting as if nothing significant had ever occurred. Soon, little by little some people began to turn their heads around, fixing their attention back into their own conversations. I couldn't understand Rin's reaction at all, but if I had to make any guess, I would bet that she might be having some trouble sleeping just like me. Not that she has all these problems with her classes and getting used to a new culture, but she is a girl who has a lot in her plate; after all, being class president is not as easy as TV shows make it seem, right?

"How embarrassing, what did I do?" My friend whispered as she looked down, letting her hair covered her red cheeks. A weight began to press my chest, and although I wanted Rin to know that we are all human and that these kinds of reactions can happen to anyone, the words didn't come out from my lips. Although I did have all the intention to comfort her, my mind couldn't stop asking itself about the paper bag and how it was possible to make someone feel so frustrated just by being there. I mean, it is nothing out of the ordinary.

"Rin," Kanako began to speak, placing her cup on the table. A weak smiled spread across on my face because finally someone have dared to speak up and offer encouraging words to make Rin feel better. "I think you are aware of this but it is not proper to exasperate in such a public way. It is not a ladylike behavior."

I quickly directed my attention back to Kanako as I looked at her with a mixture of perplexity and confusion. I don't know if it was just me, but I thought I saw a glimpse of indifference and even a bit of coldness as she forced a smile to me. I doubt Kanako can come as devious girl; she is not like that, but she is no real either. No real friend will say something like that.

"I know, it's just that," Rin interrupted and finally joined the conversation. "Were you kidding? Arianna, you can't go around the place saying you eat _that_ for lunch."

I looked to my bag and smiled weakly, "But I won't eat the bag."

"Of course you won't eat the bag," Rin said, clashing her teeth, "I am not ignorant, you know. I am rich, but clearly not airheaded. Do you have that concept of us? Do you, Arianna, think rich people are that ignorant?"

Oh, I knew where this was going. Darn, what was I thinking? I quickly shook my head and began to reassure to Rin that it was not my intention to offend her by my comments; after all, it only was a thought that slipped out of mind, nothing else. I did not even mean that.

"Would you girls excuse me? I need to refresh myself." Rin said and walked out the cafeteria, getting lost into among a crowd of yellow and blue uniforms. I waited until she was out of sight before I could seize the opportunity and take out from my bag a small, rectangular packet wrapped with three different types of napkins. The napkins felt thinner now that the jelly had begun to run out from the well-cut edges of my white bread. I could not see why a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would wake so many negative reactions.

"Arianna, Rin is right. You should not display your old behaviors in a public place where everyone will judge you."

"What do you mean? It is only a sandwich. Plus, Rin already gave me this talk before."

I felt the soft bread under my fingertips and slowly, enjoying every second of it, I began to drive the sandwich closer to my mouth. The smell of the dense, strawberry jelly grew sweeter and filled my nostrils, but when my lips were about to touch the bread, Kanako raised her hand and placed it on mine. Softly, she shook her head in disapproval. Without thinking it twice, and really not knowing why, her gesture convinced me and at the end, I decided to put my sandwich back on the table.

"I feel better now," A calmer Rin walked back into room and took her seat between Kanako and me. "Would you let me use your butter knife Kanako? It seems they forgot to accommodate one on my tray today."

Kanako took a knife from her tray and handed to Rin, who immediately used it to place a very ridicule amount of butter on top of her school-made muffin.

"Rin, I was thinking on stopping by the Host club today after school. Would you think this could help you and your mood somehow? I heard their new host; the scholar Fujioka from class 1-A is rather cute." Kanako said, breaking the silence that had grown among the three of us.

"I see, Kanako. We are host-hopping again. Are we?" Rin remarked as a grin crossed her face, but before Kanako could reply to the question, Rin's grin turned into a smile as she looked at me. "I bet you have not heard about the Host Club. Am I right Arianna?" Rin asked as if she had read my mind, which made chills ran down my spine. These kinds of coincidences can freak me out sometimes.

"No, but-"

"Well, it is settled. You are going to come with us, and since I am wide aware of the specialty of your situation, I will pay your quota for today. I know Arianna is willing to leave behind her commoner life and this is the perfect way to commemorate that occasion. Don't you agree, Arianna?"

"Yes," I said before taking the paper bag and wrapping my sandwich around it sloppily. "I do."

The last words left my mouth without hesitation and made me felt confident, full of expectations. Soon, the afternoon bell rang, so we stood up from our chairs and joined everyone outside the cafeteria. As we made our way back to the normal school routine, I took a one last look at my sandwich. I saw the paper bag and knew immediately that the staff would take care of my mess and carelessness. They will throw my lunch away. They will throw away every trace of my past self.


End file.
